Karrah
by Sage Saria
Summary: Karrah is a young monk living in Qeynos. She has no memory of who she is or how she came to Qeynos. And a band of rogues that want her dead doesn't help either. Follow Karrah in her quest for the truth about her identity. CHAPTER 4 UP AT LAST!
1. Chapter 1

Karrah

Chapter 1

I sat motionless on the wooden floor, my legs folded underneath me. My eyes were closed, but I could still see the room in my mind's eye. I felt someone's hands brush my long bangs back and tie a cloth over my eyes. I didn't move. I only listened to the footsteps around me, backing away slowly barely loud enough for my ears to pick up the sound.

For a long time there was silence. I remained kneeling, listening intently, waiting. I felt eyes peering at me from behind. Footsteps approached me…__

Closer...

Closer...  
_  
Now!  
_  
I used the balls of my feet to spring up, twisting in the air to plant a back kick in the chest of my opponent, then using the momentum from the kick, I flipped backward, finally landing on the floor, my hands raised.

I heard more footsteps; five opponents, coming from all side. The one to my left was closest. A leaned back to dodge a punch from him, then kicked him sharply in the stomach. My foot touched the floor as a cue for my fist to snap over my shoulder, causing a sickening crunch as the back of my fist hit someone's nose, before my elbow connected with his stomach. I twirled about to block a kick from someone to my right, and struck him across the face.

I felt another blow coming at me, but I was sent to the floor before I could react. I caught myself with my hands and right foot, and my left leg swept under my opponent's legs, dropping him to the floor with a heavy thud. I half-twisted off the floor and brought myself back up, then turned and let my fist fly towards the last one. I didn't hit him, and I quickly realized that they were too far away, thus stepped forward and slammed the side of my hand into their temple.

My opponents fallen, I relaxed and lowered my head slowly into a respectful bow. Clapping came from across the room. I ripped off the blindfold and opened my eyes. As soon as they adjusted to the light, I saw my master, Dareth approach me, clapping in approval.

"Well, done, Karrah," he said warmly, "You've nearly mastered my teachings."

"Thank you, Master." I replied, bowing.

"However, Karrah, your reflexes might need a little work. You could have easily blocked the one who knocked you down."

"I know, Master. I will work on it."

"Good. You've done well today. Get some rest."

"Thank you Master." I bowed one last time and turned on my heel to the exit. The cool air soothed my sweating body as I stepped out of the guild hall. I glanced around the little village of Qeynos. Nothing out of the ordinary. People wandering about, doing their jobs, talking with their lovers, fixing their weapons or sparring with their friends. Same as it always was in Qeynos.

At least it wasn't raining.

I bent down and dipped my hands into the little pool that ran past the guild hall. It felt good to splash the ice-cold water to my face, washing away the sweat and clearing my head. I shook my head a little, spraying water from my bangs, and stuck my hands into the river again. I paused as I caught my reflection in the rippling surface. I found myself staring at it, my eyes finding their way to my scar.

It was a deep scar that went from halfway across my forehead all the way to my right temple. Quellious alone knows how I got that scar.

It had been four years. Master Dareth told me that they found me outside of Blackburrow, the city of gnolls, barely alive. They had carried me to their guild hall and nursed me back to health, but they could not heal this scar, nor could they repair my lost memory. They named me Karrah, as I could not remember my own name.

I made my home here in Qeynos and became one of the Monk guild. They trained me in the skills of meditation and martial arts. It helps me to clear my head and give me peace, but a part of me is still uneasy.

I want more than anything to get back my memory. Clearly Qeynos was not my true home. Nobody knew who I was when I first came here. I searched everywhere in and around Qeynos, from the city of Blackburrow to the druid dwellings of Surefall Glade, but I found nothing. The only place I hadn't gone was Freeport, the only other human city in Norrath.

My training was nearly complete. Soon, I would be free of my work in the Monk guild, and I would travel to Freeport. Even if I weren't searching for my lost memory, I would have longed to travel there. Anywhere was better than this pathetic excuse of a city.

Thunder rumbled over my head, and spontaneous heavy rain poured down over the city. I wasted no time in hurrying back into the guild hall. I didn't speak with anyone. I merely knelt at the window and watched the rain fall. Half-consciously I brushed my nut-brown hair over my face, hiding the scar.

_Patience, Karrah,_ I told myself, _It's almost time._


	2. Chapter 2

Karrah

Review reply:

Crystalryu - Thanks for the feedback! Yeah, I've been trying to avoid going into _too_ much detail about the surroundings, 'cause most people already know what Qeynos looks like LOL but I'll see what I can do. This is actually one of the best things I've written in a year that I'm _not_ completely stuck on. Seriously. Also...you thought Karrah was a man? LOL I thought with a name like Karrah it'd be obvious that she's a woman...oh well.

Chapter 2

I never slept well. I'd always be lying in bed wide awake for hours, thinking about anything that reached my restless mind, until I couldn't take it anymore and I'd meditate myself to sleep.

Tonight was no exception. It was almost midnight, and I hadn't given up on sleep without aid just yet. I listened to the rain pattering on the roof of the silent guild hall, mentally following the path to Freeport. I would follow that path for real in five days, when I completed my training.

A muffled creak in the next room caught my attention. Someone was in the hall. Was it one of the other monks? No, couldn't be…no one is awake this late. This was a stranger to the guild…and whoever it was, it was coming my way.

The papered door slithered open. Quickly I dropped myself onto the bed and feigned sleep. The stranger was in the room now, feet pressing hard against the wooden floors, toward where I lay.

The sound of footsteps stopped. Silence, then a sudden rush of air right over me. I clapped my hands in front of me, catching someone's wrist, and opened my eyes to see a dagger, inches from my face, a colorless, sappy liquid oozing down the blade.

I rolled to my feet to see a figure, clad in black, yank its armed hand out of my grasp and disappear out the door. I dashed after it, almost without thinking. It was only seconds before I felt the wet grass beneath my bare feet and rain pounded down on me. I stopped and looked around frantically, squinting in the blinding water and fighting to keep my soaked bangs out of my eyes.

A bolt of lightning streaked across the clouds. I whipped around in time to see the figure, highlighted by the blinding flash in the sky, jump down from the roof of the guild hall, blade poised to attack. I barely stepped out of the way in time, and I finally got a look at my opponent.

The faint light around the building was enough to make out indigo skin, telling me that my opponent was a dark elf. Narrow, feminine eyes glared at me behind a black mask that hid the rest of its face. Long black hair was tied in a ponytail, which hung limp from wetness.

That was all I could see before the assassin vanished again into the darkness of the rain. I glanced around the empty surroundings, shaking wetness from my face in vain, until finally the attacker appeared again. I blocked her strike with my open hand, knocking her dagger away. I could hear it clatter across the marble road, out of my sight.

The rogue seemed to be able to see it, however, as she took her eyes off of me towards where I heard it fall, and tried to move to it. I blocked her path. She tried to duck past me, but I stepped in her way again and attempted a punch. She blocked and sent one of her own. I ducked away and started to grab at her mask. She was quick; I found myself having to turn around her several times to avoid her attacks.

But I finally found my chance as her fist barely missed my shoulder. I grabbed her arm and flipped backwards, sending her to the ground. She tried to get up, but I was already over her. Pressing my knee into her chest, I reached down and finally slipped off the mask.

My wet bangs hung over my eyes, but I could still make out the assassin's face in the dark; thin, pale lips, small nose, and now I could see her eyes, coal-like and deep in her face. I caught a glimpse of a tiny tattoo near the corner of her mouth before she suddenly rolled onto her stomach, throwing me onto the muddy ground. The rogue gave me no time to recover; pain shot through my right cheek as she sent a kick across it. The warmth of blood was startling against the stinging cold of the rain.

I saw the assassin retract the reddened blade back into her sandal before she kicked me onto my back. I fought as hard as I could not to panic or pass out as I realized through the shock that she knocked the wind out of me. The rogue began to approach me, her knife in her hand once again.

"What's going on out there?"

A pair of monks, still in their night things, appeared, lanterns in hand. Finally I forced my body to breathe again and turned toward them, blinking at the light and rain assaulting my face.

"Karrah! Karrah! What happened?"

I felt one of the monks wrap one of my arms around his shoulders and pull me to my feet, which stung against the cold grass.

"A rogue." I muttered, drained, "She tried to kill me. I don't know where she went."

A few of the other students fanned out to examine the surrounding area while I was dragged into the guild hall. I didn't barely noticed the warmth as we entered, alerting me to the fact that my whole body was going numb.

"Give her to me." I heard Master Dareth's voice say, "Get the medicine, quickly!"

His voice was distant. My eyes rolled. I felt nothing, not even Master Dareth's arms supporting me.

"Hold on, Karrah. You're all r—t—n--"

I knew nothing more of that night.


	3. Chapter 3

Karrah

Chapter 3

An unfamiliar scent permeated the air around me. I opened my eyes, taking in the surroundings of my room.

"Master, she's awake." a student kneeling next to me exclaimed. My eyes focused in time to see Master Dareth turn from the open door and look at him.

"Thank you, Raieth. Keep watch outside. I wish to speak with her alone." Raieth bowed and padded out of the room, shutting the door with a soft tap. Master Dareth knelt next to me in his place.

"How are you feeling, Karrah?" he asked. I didn't answer.

"What is that?" I asked instead, referring to the smell, which seemed to be coming from a corner I couldn't see.

"Incense from Shar Vahl. The smoke will get the poison out of your bloodstream."

"So it was poisoned." I muttered. Master Dareth slipped an arm under me, helping me sit up.

"Here, drink this," he placed a steaming cup into my hands, "It will give you your strength back."

I glanced at the thin liquid in the mug that was almost burning my fingers and carefully took a sip, wincing as it nearly scalded my tongue. I forced the tea down my throat before choking on the bitter taste. Master Dareth held my hands to keep the cup from upsetting.

I cleared my throat of the foul flavor and sipped more, rather reluctantly.

"We haven't caught the assassin who attacked you yet." Master Dareth said after some time, "She must have gotten away while we were getting you inside."

I nodded, taking another gulp of tea.

"The guards are going to want to know what you saw. Did you see her face?"

I nodded again. I thought for a moment, bringing her face to mind again, describing as best as I could. Master Dareth listened, eyes closed so he too could see the image of the rogue.

But as soon as I mentioned the mark I saw, his eyes blinked open, a look of surprise worn on his face.

"A tattoo…near her mouth? Are you sure?" he asked in a suspicious tone. I raised an eyebrow.

"Does that mean something, Master?"

He hesitated, then with a sigh leaned closer to me, voice lowered.

"There are stories of a deadly band of rogues that hail from the east. They are said to have a mark carved into their skin, small enough to be hidden easily from the world; a symbol of their devotion to Freeport."

"Freeport! They take sides with assassins?"

"It is only a rumor, of course."

I stared at the tea swirling in my cup. I'd never heard of such a dark side to Freeport before.

Could such a place possibly be my home?

The door slid open, courtesy of Raieth kneeling outside the room.

"Master, the General is here to speak with you about last night."

"One moment." Master Dareth replied. He turned to me and put a hand on my shoulder.

"Get some rest, Karrah." He stood up quickly and paced out of the room. The downed the last mouthfuls of the acrid liquid and placed the mug aside. The door glided shut, and I slumped back onto the bed.

The rain stopped a long time ago. Drops of water glistened on the windows from the sun rising over the city. I turned away from the blinding light, interesting myself in the pristine wood on the floor.

_It's only a rumor..._

I wasn't so sure what to make of that. I knew what I saw that night. I'd never seen such skill in a rogue before.

But from Freeport…?


	4. Chapter 4

Karrah

Chapter 4

I shrugged the pack onto my shoulders, taking one final glance back at Qeynos. _Out of the fires at last_, I thought. I didn't even say goodbye to anyone as I left, except my guild. It's not like anyone else would care…

I took a deep breath and paced across the worn path. A few gnoll pups flattened their dog-like ears and growled at me as I passed, but they knew to keep their distance. I glanced up at the sky, which had exhausted itself from the rain. Quellious knew when it would start again, however.

My attention returned to the path; I heard music in the distance. Curious, I quickened my pace. Scattered plants sprouted from the pains, and under one young tree by the road sat the source of the music that caught my interest.

Bards. Three of them; two young ladies and a man, deep in practice. The man crouched against the tree with a recorder, tooting the melody of a jig while one girl accompanied him with a lute and the other kept time on a tambourine as she danced circles around the musicians.

I slowed to take in the sight. Bards truly were a marvel of Norrath. They saw me watching, and smiled in greeting, never missing a beat of their song.

"You there!"

The trio stopped short, recognizing the voice as a guard galloping down the road on a gray mare, accompanied by a duplicate of himself.

"Get out of here, ruddy urchins!" He and his partner sped toward the bards, who promptly scattered. The ladies eluded their predators, while the soldiers leapt from their mounts and went after the boy, who stumbled over his escape. I winced as they overcame him, blades drawn, but instead delivered sharp kicks to his bones. My face reddened, hands clenched, and in half a thought, I stepped out of my sandals, running to the fight.

I grabbed the first guard's shoulder, turning him my way so I could strike under the chin. The second received a double kick; once to knock the helmet away, then again to the side of his head.

The ringing from clanking armor settled. I tossed my bangs back, no traces of sweat on them, and turned to the bard. He winced at his sore ribs as he sat up.

"Are you ok?" I asked, extending a hand to him.

"Yeah, 'malroyt. Thanks." His accent surprised me. He pulled himself to his feet by my hand and shook disarrayed auburn hair away.

"Bloymey." He whistled, "You beat 'em up pretty good. You one o' dem monks?"

"I am…" I replied, not sure how to take the way he asked his question. He whistled again, straightening his leather tunic.

"Wow. Bet you a valuable one in ye guild."

I forced a smile, growing awkward and heeding my instincts to slip my sandals back on and keep walking.

"Well," continued the bard, now striding alongside me, wind instruments hanging from his belt giving percussion to his pace, "Now that you've gone and saved me loyf, I'd loyk t'know ye name."

I wasn't sure how obviously I winced.

"…Karrah…" I said at last, fighting not to clench my teeth.

"Karrah, eh? Pretty name fo' a pretty lady. Anyway, I'm Royda. 'Snoyce t'meetya."

Royda? What kind of a name is that? I tried to smile again, but shyness got the best of me, so instead I quickened my pace, hoping he would take the hint.

But while he confirmed my haste, he didn't leave. Instead he questioned it.

"You in quite a 'urry, ain't ye? Where ye off to?"

"Freeport." I answered, hiding my annoyance. He raised an eyebrow at me.

"Freeport? What'ye goin' there fo?" he exclaimed, sidestepping to follow me as his eyes scanned me again, "On foot even! It'll take days jus' t'get across the plains!" he snorted, "And then there's the city itself…take it from me, Miss; it ain't much better then 'round 'ere."

I stopped completely and turned to face him. _How dare you compare the beautiful city of Freeport to this rat hole! _ I wanted to scream. But I restrained myself.

"If you don't mind, Royda—"

"Royda." He corrected.

"What?"

"Royda." The bard repeated, "Loyk those guards 'oo were roydin' the 'orses."

Oh, of course. That ridiculous accent of his…

"Ryder," I continued with the corrected name, "Why I am going to Freeport is a personal matter and none of your concern."

"Royt, royt. Sorry." Ryder chuckled, scratching his ear, "I loyk t'ear people's stories 'round 'ere. 'Elps wit' me music. I guess I can get a little carried away sometoymes. I do apologize."

_Maybe he does know when to back off._ I thought. Ryder was now matching my pace step for step. He glanced at me, and raised an eyebrow again.

"What 'appened there?"

I froze, heat rising to my face. He was pointing to my scar.

"It's nothing!" I answered, turning away. He clearly didn't believe me, and leaned around to face me again. I wanted to look away, push him aside, so _something_, but something about his kept me frozen. I closed my eyes as he stroked my bangs back, gentle fingers, barely touching my skin.

"Bloymey! Ye got blooded up pretty good there, didn't ye. Does it 'urt?"

Embarassment and anger kept me silent.

"'Ow'd ye get it?"

I turned my eyes to the ground and said nothing.

"Ah, nevermoynd. Not me business, royt?" Ryder spun on his heel and stepped away as he spoke. I lifted my eyes to watch his back. He stopped, then looked back at me, one hand on his hip.

"Ye really are a gal 'oo knows 'er own business. I admoyr that." The smile that seemed to never leave his face peered over his shoulder, amber eyes catching the sun.

I couldn't stand being around him anymore. I finally convinced my legs to move, and I continued down the path.

"Don't follow me anymore."

There was no response from behind me at first, and the rattling of his instruments didn't continue. I kept walking, thinking he'd finally decided to leave me alone, when;

"Would ye loyk me t'elp ye?"

I stopped and turned again.

"What?"

"Gettin' te Freeport. Me an' the gals," he gestured in the direction the two bardesses ran, "We know a shortcut."

"But…you just said—"

"Ah, 'salroyt. We need a gig anyway, an' Freeport's better'n nothin'. In case ye 'aven't noticed, they don't exactly loyk us 'ere."

I pondered this for a while. Did I really want to travel with someone so inexplicably annoying? Could I even trust him?

His eyes were as sincere as his voice was behind that stupid accent. He smiled at me, waiting for an answer.

If he really knows how to get to Freeport quickly, then I suppose it makes more sense then taking the long road alone.

"Thank you."

To be continued.

Sorry for the long wait! Writer's block is getting the best of me again, and I've been spending a lot of time revises the last three chapters, if you've noticed. This is why I'm taking Creative Writing, after all :P

Anyway, when I first finished this chapter, my Creative Writing teacher said I should work more on Ryder's personality, because otherwise the accent becomes more of a distraction than a trait. The accent is supposed to be kinda jarring, but if it's too in the way, or course it's a problem :P I did what I could to put in a little more about him, but unless I get a big breakthrough, this is the best I can do for now. We do get to know more about him later, but if any of you think there's something I could change or improve, please let me know! Thanks for reading, hope for chapter 5 quicker than this one!


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